Chapter 4 - THE GHOST IN THE ARCHIVES
The opulent dining room felt like a vacuum, sucking the air straight from my lungs.
I stared at the tiny birth certificate clutched in Adrian’s hand.
Melissa Castellano.
I shared a first name with his dead mother.
“That’s… that’s impossible,” I stammered, stepping back, pulling Ellie firmly behind me. “My maiden name is Davis. My parents were school teachers in Ohio. I’m not a Castellano.”
Adrian didn't look convinced. He looked at the heavy gold pocket watch in his other hand, tracing the intricate engravings with his thumb.
“This watch,” Adrian said quietly, “belonged to my father. It went missing the night my mother died. The police said it was stolen during the home invasion.”
Isabella walked over, her tear-stained face pale as a sheet. She looked at the birth certificate.
“Adrian,” Isabella whispered, “Mom died giving birth. The baby didn't survive.”
“That’s what they told us,” Adrian corrected, his dark eyes snapping up to meet mine. “But this certificate was issued the exact day she died. And it names Elias Aris as the child.”
My mind was reeling. “Dr. Aris was fifty years old! He couldn't be a sixteen-year-old child!”
“He wasn't the child,” Daniel interjected, stepping closer, his tactical mind piecing the puzzle together. “Dr. Aris wasn't the baby. He was the doctor who signed the certificate.”
I frowned, the pieces clicking violently into place. “Dr. Aris wasn't just a dentist. He had medical degrees framed in his office. He used to be a surgeon before he lost his license.”
Adrian’s jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth would crack.
“He delivered the baby,” Adrian concluded. “And he faked the death certificate for the child. He took the baby, and he took my father’s gold watch as leverage.”
“But whose baby is it?” Isabella asked, her voice trembling.
Adrian looked at me. “How old is your daughter, Melissa?”
I froze. My hands tightened around Ellie’s shoulders.
“She’s twelve,” I said defensively. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“Are you sure about that?” Adrian pressed, taking a slow step toward us. “Because sixteen years ago, a corrupt doctor steals a Castellano baby. He hides the evidence in a gold watch. Years later, Ryan Mitchell—a man working closely with that exact doctor—marries a woman named Melissa. And today, Ryan murders the doctor, steals the watch, and gives it to your daughter to hide.”
“Stop it,” I cried out, stepping back again. “Ryan is a coward and a liar, but he’s Ellie’s father! I gave birth to her!”
“Did you?”
The question hit me like a physical blow.
I stared at Adrian, completely outraged. “I was in labor for fourteen hours! I have the hospital bills to prove it!”
“At which hospital?” Daniel asked quietly.
“Oak Park General,” I answered immediately.
Daniel pulled his phone out again. He typed rapidly for a few seconds, then looked up, his face grim.
“Oak Park General closed twenty years ago, ma'am,” Daniel said. “It was demolished.”
My heart stopped.
“No,” I whispered. “No, that’s wrong. I was there. Ryan drove me.”
“Melissa,” Adrian said, his voice softening, recognizing the absolute terror in my eyes. “Who delivered Ellie?”
I tried to remember. The memories of that night were blurry. I remembered pain. I remembered Ryan holding my hand. I remembered a bright light, and then…
And then I woke up in my own bed, with Ryan holding a tiny, swaddled baby.
“He told me I passed out,” I choked out, tears streaming down my face. “He told me the hospital discharged us early because I was recovering well.”
Isabella gasped, covering her mouth.
Adrian stepped forward. He didn't reach for me aggressively. He gently placed his hands on my trembling shoulders.
“Melissa,” Adrian said softly. “You didn't give birth at a hospital, did you? You gave birth at Dr. Aris’s private clinic.”
The truth slammed into me with the force of a freight train.
Ryan hadn't taken me to a hospital. He had taken me to his boss.
“But she’s mine,” I sobbed, pulling Ellie tightly to my chest. Ellie was crying now too, burying her face in my apron. “She’s my baby.”
“I believe she is,” Adrian said firmly. He looked down at Ellie, his dark eyes filled with a fierce, terrifying protectiveness. “But I also believe Ryan Mitchell has been using you both as human shields for sixteen years.”
Before I could ask what he meant, Adrian’s cell phone rang.
The harsh ringtone shattered the heavy silence in the dining room.
Adrian looked at the caller ID. His eyes narrowed.
He answered it and put it on speaker.
“Castellano,” Adrian said coldly.
“Adrian, my man!” Ryan’s voice echoed through the phone. He sounded manic, breathless, and terrifyingly arrogant. “I see you found the watch. Cute trick with the kid, right?”
“You’re a dead man, Ryan,” Adrian stated flatly.
“Not yet, I’m not,” Ryan laughed nervously. “I’m holding a cashier’s check for ten million dollars. Thanks for that, Bella, by the way. Easiest money I ever made.”
“That check requires my father’s biometric authorization to clear the federal reserve,” Adrian lied smoothly. “You can't cash it.”
“I don't need to cash it,” Ryan sneered. “I just needed it to buy a seat at the table.”
“What table?”
“The Chicago Commission,” Ryan said, his voice dripping with malice. “I’m meeting with the rival families tonight. I hand them ten million dollars of your money, and they grant me protection from you.”
Adrian’s face turned to stone.
“And what about Melissa and Ellie?” Adrian asked softly.
There was a pause on the line.
“Keep ‘em,” Ryan said coldly. “I only married Melissa because Aris told me it was a good cover. A sweet, naive wife to make me look like a family man while we laundered the Castellano money. But the kid... she’s useless to me now.”
I stopped breathing. The man I had loved, the man I had built a life with, had just discarded his own daughter like garbage.
“You’re going to burn, Ryan,” I whispered toward the phone.
Ryan laughed. “Good luck finding me, Mel. Enjoy your new mobster friends.”
The line went dead.
Adrian lowered the phone. He looked at me, seeing the absolute devastation on my face.
“He’s meeting the Commission,” Daniel said, his hand dropping to the weapon holstered at his waist. “If he buys their protection, we can't touch him without starting a city-wide war.”
“Then we stop him before he gets to the meeting,” Adrian said, turning toward the doors.
“How?” Isabella asked, wiping her tears. “He could be anywhere in the city!”
Adrian stopped. He looked back at me. Then, he looked down at the heavy gold pocket watch still resting in his hand.
“He’s not anywhere,” Adrian said, a dark, dangerous smile slowly spreading across his face. “He’s going to the one place he thinks is safe.”
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He opened the gold watch again. He didn't look at the birth certificate. He looked at the intricate engraving on the inside of the casing.
“My father didn't just hide a birth certificate in this watch,” Adrian said softly. “He hid a map.”
